In An Ocean So Wide
by flyingharmony
Summary: "They say that drowning is painless," she breathed, nearly choked by her tears. "Isn't it?"


_The cry that came to break the night's soothing silence would have woken her had she not already risen from her bed long before and begun to restlessly pace around the room. It seemed like a crime to her to sleep when she was aware her daughter was still missing, to close her eyes and to allow herself to rest while her mind was still full of worry, full of uncertainty._

_She could hear the ocean rush dangerously from far away, even with the windows to her bedroom closed. She could barely stand the sound, even though she once loved the sea so fiercely, as did her daughter._

_Her precious child hadn't run away, no… Would never run away, never…_

_Perhaps she would return, she thought, perhaps her concern would prove to be groundless. Perhaps the ocean hadn't…_

_No. No, of course it hadn't. She was strong, stronger than this, too strong to give in, she wouldn't…_

_She would return. She had to return._

_But then came the woman's scream, so heart-piercing that it seemed to resound within her ears forever, shattering her last hopes like glass that burst on the floor._

_They would come to her, if it were a matter of importance, she told herself in the silence that followed, but yet she could feel the sea calling for her and she could not wait. She quickly dressed and left her room, so rashly that she almost fell down the stairs. Within minutes she arrived at the bay, dizzy for a moment, but soon she composed herself, only to find that they had been expecting her already. That they seemed to have known she would follow the cry, that none of them had bothered to see her personally and probably would not have until the morrow despite her orders._

"_They've found her, Madame Black!" a man called out to her, and whatever had been left of what felt like tiredness from the lack of sleep seemed to vanish within the moment. For no longer than a second she allowed herself to hope once more…_

_But then she saw her, saw Narcissa, her Narcissa, lying there on the ground, pale and lifeless, strands of her long blonde hair wetly sticking to her face…_

_And she realised. She sank to her knees and took her body, pressing it against hers until she were almost capable of making herself believe that she could still feel her heart beat inside of her. She didn't want to let go of her ever again, wanted to hold her beautiful girl within her arms and never release her until they were to take her from her by force._

_If the entire world were to see her now, she could not care less. Could not care less whether they were to laugh at her tears or to call her weak. Frail. Had she once been ashamed of her emotions, now they no longer mattered to her, because how could they? How could anything still matter, now, now that she'd lost her, now that her entire world had ceased to turn?_

_She could feel two hands carefully touching her shoulders yet wouldn't turn her head, knew that it was Bellatrix who had half-heartedly participated in the search for her sister, never hesitating to tell her that she believed her command to be nothing but a foolish overreaction._

"_Mother…" she whispered now, her voice breaking with grief and exhaustion, and for a moment she was not at all the proud and defiant young woman she had always been, even in her childhood._

_Gone. She was gone; Narcissa was gone. The ocean had claimed her, and its cruel, triumphant rushing would never fall silent. The ocean had called for her and she had followed. Still she held her; still she refused to let go, not until Bellatrix nearly gently pulled her away, not until she collapsed against her other daughter's body, shaken by sobs._

"_They say that drowning is painless," she breathed, nearly choked by her tears. "Isn't it?"_

_Twelve hours earlier._

Narcissa would miss the ocean the most. Would miss falling asleep to the sound of the waves breaking against the rocks in the bay, would miss her daily walks that could clear her mind of anything that bothered her.

She would miss the ocean the most. Sometimes, it seemed to call her name, seemed to whisper to her to give herself to the water, and to become one with the waves. They would soothe her pain and relieve her from any of her sorrows.

How many times had Narcissa forced herself to refuse, to swallow down the desire to follow? How many other times had she nearly yielded to the sea in her most desperate moments?

She was supposed to be happy, she knew, happier than any other woman in this world. Wasn't she to marry the man she loved, more than she even loved herself? Wasn't she to become the wife of Lucius Malfoy, to carry his name as her own in barely a week from now. Wasn't she to share his home, his bed? Hadn't this been everything she had ever longed for?

How easy it seemed, to leave her home. How easy it seemed to leave her mother, who would never allow herself to show any kind of weakness within her presence yet who needed her more than she dared to admit. And how easy it had been for her sisters… Bellatrix would hardly visit them, would hardly write, almost as though she had forgotten about them in the moment she had stepped out of her childhood home's door as a married woman. And Andromeda? Andromeda had chosen her own path, turning her back against her family by committing a betrayal so unspeakable it seemed impossible even to think about.

They were alone now, Mother and her, alone until she, too, were to fulfil her duty. Alone and yet together until the day of her wedding.

Duty. It was only a word, and yet it sometimes scared her, scared her beyond belief. She was to fulfil her duty, to become a wife, a mother, was to bring honour to her family… She was to become like her mother, to always remain strong under any circumstances and never to show weakness, no matter how weak she felt.

Narcissa had never seen her mother shed a single tear, had never heard her cry, not even when Father had died, not even when one day they had found Andy's bed to be empty, a letter of farewell carefully placed on the pillow. How strong she had been, always, firm like a rock, nearly unbreakable, and how much had her piercing green eyes begun to shine when they spoke of her future.

What a fool Narcissa had been to believe her so strong.

"You're everything I have left, Cissy," Mother had whispered to her when she had come to her room one night shortly after Andy had left, probably believing Narcissa was asleep. Through squinted eyes, Narcissa had seen her mother to be pale, with deep shadows lingering beneath her eyes as though she had just woken from a nightmare. The sound of her voice had driven a shiver down Narcissa's spine; how fragile had she seemed at that moment… How desperate… "Don't fail me, please… You cannot fail me; you must not… You're my only hope for the future…"

That night had changed everything. Perhaps her mother had noticed that she was awake, and perhaps she hadn't, but it did not matter. None of it mattered. After that, she would barely look at her any more, would refuse to speak to her, would refuse to answer her questions. Narcissa could see the fear in her mother's eyes she so despairingly attempted to hide; whatever had happened to her, whatever her mind had done to her, whatever she had realised, she was no longer the same. And would never be.

It sometimes felt as though over all those years, Mother had been wearing a mask, a mask that had now fallen down and shattered into a thousand pieces. It sometimes felt as though she had lost any composure, as though she had allowed her fears to assume control over her entirely.

Countless times in the years since then, Narcissa had promised her mother she would never fail her, had sworn that nothing would change, but her words had gone unheeded. Mother had grown so cold, cold like she presented herself towards those she did not know, so distanced as though to protect herself from her own daughter, and yet Narcissa's mere presence seemed to crush her.

_You're everything I have left, Cissy._

It broke her heart to see her mother in a state like this, but Narcissa, too, seemed unable to hold back her own worries, her own fears, any longer. How much she needed her mother, yet how desperate she was to hold back. Even if her mother's strength had come falling down, hers wouldn't. She would fulfil her duties, would bring honour to her family, and would not fail. Would never disappoint her mother, never disappoint her husband.

She was supposed to be happy. And yet sometimes it caused her great effort even to smile. Yet sometimes it caused her great effort to close her ears to the calling of the ocean.

Duty. Honour.

How much she worried. How much she worried about her mother, and how much she worried about her future. Of course she loved him. Of course she adored him, of course she wanted him to be happy, wanted him to be happy more than anything else…

Narcissa could still see him right before her eyes, a boy of twelve in his black and green robes, winking at her as she took her seat at the Slytherin table for the first time, could still feel the slight blush spread on her cheeks as she returned his wink and smiled. It was not until her fifth year at school that they kissed in the potions classroom in a moment they believed to be unseen, and not until she had turned seventeen that he officially asked Mother for her hand in marriage.

It all had gone so fast, and yet Narcissa had been lucky enough to experience what Bellatrix was denied, and what Andromeda had taken by force. A relationship that was built upon trust, devotion and nothing but pure, unconditional love. She was supposed to be happy…

Mother had always adored him; for hours and hours they would sit together and talk, and she'd smile at him, would smile her graceful, reserved smile while her eyes spoke out what Narcissa dared not think about.

What a beautiful heir she would give him; a strong and handsome son who would bring nothing but honour to their families, a son who would seal the bond of their blood into all eternity. She was to bear their future.

Narcissa had been a fool to forcefully forget about what was to be her most important duty as a wife. She had been a fool to close her eyes to the truth, to secretly deny the obvious. Of course she would give him a son; she wouldn't fail her husband, wouldn't fail her mother. She was all she had left after all.

How hopeful had she once been about her future; how gladly had she once spoken about her wedding, how much love had she once seen when looking into his eyes… But now? Now, everything seemed to be different. Now, everything would come to fall apart.

She mustn't fail…

_You're everything I have left, Cissy._

It had been routine. Nothing but a brief examination of her body, an appointment Narcissa thought she'd probably forget about in the moment she stepped out of the Healer's small office in Diagon Alley. But she would never forget what did happen, would never forget the moment that had taken her breath away, that ended her life so suddenly before it had fully begun. She would never forget…

"Mademoiselle Black, I am deeply sorry."

"What is it?"

The words came pelting down on her like rain on pavement, but she could barely hear them, could barely listen any longer. It were as though she were numb, as though she had gone into a trance. She would never have any children. Would never be capable of giving her husband an heir, would never…

She would never have any children.

Narcissa rose from her chair and turned away, leaving the room in silence. Why should she care about the Healer's feigned sympathy, why should she care about false and shallow courtesy now, now that her entire world had come crumbling down on her, burying her beneath the ashes? Why should she still care about anything, now that it all seemed over?

She would never have any children.

She was worthless. Worthless with no potions and no spells ever to help her; worthless, had failed, disappointed those she loved the most…

Would he still love her, if he knew? Would Mother still look at her, would she still speak to her? Would she still call her her daughter if…

Would he still love her?

Of course she had to tell Lucius; how could she not? How could she deny him an heir, how could she go into marriage in the full awareness that she would never be capable of giving him what he deserved? There was time to break the engagement still, time to take actions; it wasn't too late for him…

No.

Narcissa wanted to scream at the thought; her mother wouldn't survive if she were to tell her the truth, and Lucius, her Lucius… Perhaps he loved her, truly; perhaps he loved her as much as she loved him, and perhaps he would still…

She wouldn't allow him to walk into disaster with his eyes open. Perhaps she was lost, but there was still a chance for him, and how dare she value her own happiness more than her duty?

Duty. Honour.

She would never bear him any children… She had failed him, had failed them all…

_You're everything I have left, Cissy._

Narcissa had long reached her home, had raised her wand to open the gate but hesitated, holding her breath as though she were afraid that Mother could hear her. That she would await her. She knew that she had no choice than to enter, than to face her, eye to eye, than to face them both… But she couldn't. Instead she turned around and began to run, to run as fast as she could until she found herself falling down at the bay, her entire body trembling.

The sound of the ocean drowned her desperate sobs until they were impossible even for her to hear and the only thing left to hear was its whisper to her: _You will be free._. Water began to cover her body, slowly, nearly gently at first, but soon the waves had taken full possession of her, shattering her wand on the rocks and carrying her away, further and further until she lost any hold.

The ocean had called for her once more, had called for her to follow. And finally, she gave in.


End file.
